


I Am Cannibal

by Bluebox_Parchment



Series: Everything We Are [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Endverse, M/M, PWP, blow jobs!, but yay, cas/others implied, dean getting pissy and possessive, fingering!, gratuitous devotion to castiel's hip bones, idk what it is about endverse but i just think about it in terms of how much dean and cas have sex, jealous!Dean, orgasm denial!, this is literally 1500 words of porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebox_Parchment/pseuds/Bluebox_Parchment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean watches as a seemingly endless string of women and men stumble out of Cas' cabin throughout the early hours of the morning.<br/>And Dean? Well Dean doesn't like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Cannibal

Dean watches as a seemingly endless string of women and men stumble out of Cas' cabin throughout the early hours of the morning. They trickle out in pairs or groups, one girl leaves alone, spinning across the dirt track, the early morning mist swirling around her milky calves.

There's nothing particularly special about any of them, Dean thinks, taking a swig from bottle of whiskey. They all more or less look the same. Sweat slick skin, flushed and bleary-eyed, loose limbed and looking thoroughly well fucked.

Dean patterns circles into the thin layer of dirt and dust that's settled on the hood of the Impala due to its weeks of disuse and watches all the same. He grows increasingly angrier every time someone else exits through the beaded curtain he'd begrudgingly helped Cas hang up.

It's not until the sun is cresting the horizon, weak morning light bleaching the sky from indigo to grey, that Dean pushes away from his Baby and stomps over towards the cabin feeling irate.

He wonders momentarily what he'd do if he walked in to discover yet more people draping themselves over the fallen angel. Wonders what it might _feel_ like to witness a woman writhe on top of him or see him with his lips wrapped around another guy's cock. He swallows down the thought and tramples into the room frustratedly throwing the damn beads to one side, half ready to drag whoever else is there away, to shove them down the steps and bark orders for them to sober the fuck up, because this is an apocalypse and he can't have a bunch of stoned hippies as the only line of defence against a rabid hoard of Croats.

But he's alone, thank G- He's alone.

Cas is in the middle of the room wearing a loose fitting pair of pyjama pants and stretching down to touch his toes. He catches sight of Dean through his legs and slowly rights himself, rolling his shoulders as he goes, making the anti-possession tattoo between his shoulder blades shift across his skin. Bruises and bite marks scatter his neck and there are a scratch marks trailing down Cas' upper arms and across his sides.

“Hello Dean,” Cas says pleasantly.

Dean lets his eyes trail around the room, skirt over the discarded pair of panties hanging from a glass lampshade on the dresser, slide over the rumpled and stained looking sheets, and settle on a particularly dark bruise that's been sucked into Cas' collarbone. “You've been busy,” Dean says scathingly and he knows, God he knows that if Cas gets the chance to turn round then he'll be smirking and ratty and acting like the general ass he's become since his wings got ripped.

So Dean doesn't give him the chance. He covers the distance between the two of them in two long strides, places a calloused hand around the exposed skin of Cas' throat, rests the other on Cas' right hip, and lines his body up against the other man's slightly slimmer frame. Cas leans back into him, dropping his head back onto Dean's shoulder and grinding his ass back into Dean's groin.

Dean bites out, nipping his teeth against the dark bruise and Cas squirms, letting out a huffy little moan. He licks at a trail of sweat just behind Cas' ear and sucks his own bruises over half-faded ones on Cas' collarbone, letting his right hand drift down into Cas' pyjama pants to make a loose fist around Cas' hardening cock. Cas grinds back into Dean's own erection and mumbles something incoherent, maybe mentions that he's already ready, that he needs Dean in him, wants to ride him til he comes over his own chest and Dean's rhythm stutters, stops, and his hand is backing off.

Jealousy shatters across Dean's bones and twist through his stomach like a well placed knife. He spins Cas around and grips his face in his hands, eyes darting across his features cause doesn't he get it yet? How can he not get it yet?

“Dean?”

A few quick breaths and then Dean's pushing Cas back into the nearest wall, pressing their bodies flush together and trailing devastating kisses across Cas's neck once more. “Hate this,” Dean mutters, settling his teeth over someone else's bite marks. He slides his hands back into Cas' pants and shucks them down around Cas' ankles. “Really-fucking-hate-this.” He punctures every word with nips down Cas' chest.

And he does. He really does. Because the thought of someone else like this with Cas, it just makes him want to torch the place to the ground.

Then he's on his knees, sucking bruises into Cas' unblemished hip bones, and Dean sends up a prayer of thanks to the God he knows isn't there because Cas' hip bones are a thing of beauty and it'd be a damn shame if someone was going to mark them. Well, anyone but Dean. And he drags his teeth up their length and Cas shivers against him.

Dean goes down on him without elegance or ceremony. He digs his fingers into Cas' hips and swirls his tongue around Cas' leaking cock, tonguing at the slit. Above him, Cas babbles incoherently and knots his fingers through Dean's short tresses. “Dean-Dean-I'm gonna-” but Dean's already pulled back, hands off Cas' body and he's smirking up at him.

Cas grows, pounds his fists back against the wall and spits, “You asshole,” down at Dean, who shoots a shit eating grin his way. It takes about a minute of heavy breathing before Cas' seems to come down from almost shooting his load.

Dean watches him the entire time. Cas' chest heaves up and down and tiny shakes rack his body. Finally, Dean crawls back in and sucks at the inside of Cas' knee. “You,” he begins, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses up Cas' toned inner thigh, “have been having,” he bypasses Cas' interested cock and starts making his way back down the other thigh, “way too much sex.”

Cas' hands shoot out and grapple with Dean's hair, try to tug him forwards but Dean wraps his hands around Cas' wrists and shakes his head. Then he laughs when Cas bucks his hips forwards.

Dean pins Cas' arms against the wall, locks his eyes with Cas', licks his lips and opens his mouth obscenely just an inch or so from Cas' cock. He lets his breath puff out and ghost across Cas' spit-slick dick and Cas whines, half-sobs, “ _please_ ,” and that's it, Dean's resolve has crumbled like Babel.

He drops his grip on Cas' wrists, nuzzles back in to those delightful hip bones, relishing in the light pink marks that now pattern all over them and then Dean's taking Cas' cock back in his mouth and humming contentedly all the way down. He doesn't even flinch as he deep throats a couple of times before pulling back, swirling his tongue over the head and coming away with a pop. “Damnit Dean,” Cas bites out, til Dean's mouthing at Cas' balls and fisting his dick in a tight grip.

Cas whimpers, and the sound shoots straight to Dean's own cock, that's rock hard and making a mess of his pants already.

He licks upwards until he's enveloping Cas' cock in his mouth again, trailing his fingers down over Cas' entrance, which gives with little resistance. Frantic noises bubble from Cas' mouth as his hips stutter forwards and his legs tremble violently on either side of Dean. And he smirks cause _God_ what a sight Cas is, face screwed up and absolutely wrecked as Dean fucks him open with his fingers and sucks, cheeks hollowed, tongue dancing around Cas' cock.

“S'okay Cas,” Dean mumbles, pulling off his cock for a few seconds to gulp down a lungful of air. He pushes his fingers all the way in and Cas' knees buckle. Dean splays his free hand across Cas' hip, licks the slit of Cas' cock and breaths, “You can come now,” before sucking back down again, taking him all the way into his throat and then Cas' is coming, hard and hot, his ass clenching and spasming around Dean's fingers.

He licks him clean, swallowing the salty tang down and then pulls back and out gently. His hand on Cas' hip is the only thing keeping him upright. Dean nuzzles in again and Cas shakes violently at his touch, his body hyper sensitive and trembling. “Mine,” Dean breathes, mouthing over Cas' hip bones again. And he'll deny it if Cas ever tries to mention it again, he'll punch him in the face and tell him he's a filthy, stoned liar, but right now, right this minute he doesn't give a shit.

His mouth has been everywhere, has mapped the body in front of him with soft kisses and teasing fingers. “Mine,” he breathes again, tightening his grip on Cas' hips. “Mine.”

Shaking fingers run through his hair. Through Cas' gasping breaths, he replies, “Yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Song title is from Ke$ha's Cannibal, which is what I listened to on loop whilst writing this. Not that you particularly needed to know this.


End file.
